A Legacy of Destruction
by GracefulCRose
Summary: Alexandra Battle, a close cousin of the infamous Warren Peace, has recently moved to Maxville to attend her junior year at Sky High. She brings with her not only the dubious history of the Battle family, but a force that could potentially destroy the world of both the human and superhuman.
1. Born of Fire

_Edit: Song lyrics removed because I didn't give them proper credit and I'm not allowed to have them in stories_

* * *

The flames dance across my fingers and disperse onto the brushed aluminum desk. I alter the flow of oxygen around the spiral causing it to flame towards the ceiling and shower into a flood of sparks. Despite it being my last day of freedom from the tyranny of school, I start to wander aimlessly throughout my house, trying to find something to do for the few minutes until I went next door. I open my closet, attempting without much effort to find an outfit to wear tomorrow. I was moving through sweatshirts when I reached my series of uniforms from last year. I retract my hand as the memories of pain and jeers rushed back into consciousness. That was not a place I would like to recall.

I swiftly return to sitting on the bed in my room; sparsely decorated due to my tendency to sometimes spontaneously burst into flame when I'm sleeping . Despite the lack of decor, it was still with the same decadence as many Battle households. Every Battle, related by blood, has the ability to manipulate flames and oxygen. Power is dependent on who was married into the family, with a pure bloodline (such as that of all supers) being the most powerful. I have the privilege of having a hydrokinetic mother and pyrokinetic father. Because my mother recently died in a not-so-freak lightning accident, my father and I moved out to Maxville just a couple weeks ago. Even better, we are living right next door to my cousin, the infamous Warren Peace.

Tomorrow, I am starting my Junior year with him at Sky High. Due to the time we've spent together during breaks family get-togethers, we're practically siblings. At every holiday we'd spar along with the rest of our cousins, each of us overpowering the others, despite us being the youngest. When Warren and I fought each other, it would result in a draw or a close victory. As a result of our friendship, for the last week or so, we have been training together all day and then stay up late reading or talking outside by the fire pit. Our time together has been a gift from the fact that his girlfriend is out of town. A cryokinetic, Katelyn is delicate and quiet, but not helpless. I've only met her once, but from Warren's glowing descriptions, I probably wouldn't hate her, and that's saying something.

Warren and I are alike in the fact that we do not trust people easily. However, Warren is more of a I-wear-leather-and-will-roast-your-face-off-if-you-so-much-as-smile-at-me type, whereas I am more of a I-wear-jeans-and-a-tshirt-but-if-you-underestimate-me-I-will-roast-you-then-drown-you type. We agree on the final product, but I'm a little more tolerant of people as whole.

Even though we are going to a school with the purpose to train us to become heroes and outside training is discouraged, the nature of our family causes us to train as hard as we can to remain in condition should any need arise. Despite the dubious reputations of Barron Battle, and to a greater extent, my mother, the Battles have been divided between heroism and villainy. If you can't live up to our standards, you get shunned by the family. In addition to this pressure, the tryouts for the school Save the Citizen and Gauntlet team happen tomorrow.

The Gauntlet is a course of obstacles that includes multiple terrains such as water, lava, high altitudes, and sludge. It functions as capture the flag on steroids. Typically only seniors play this sport in PE, but Juniors can also try out for the school team, hence why Warren and I are practicing today.

Warren knocks on the back door and I run back to meet him. He hands me a pair of gloves, similar to the ones he wears that are fireproof on the inside. They're embroidered with the family symbol. The gloves fit perfectly as I slip them on and nod once in gratefulness. We walk outside to our huge orange tree. I lean on a specific branch, speak a small phrase in Latin and a small hatch opens at the bottom of the tree. We climb down a ladder and enter a huge room.

The gloves I was given are created to conflict the times when Warren and I have so much oxygen rushing through us that we unintentionally burst into flames. The gloves don't completely prevent fire so that we can power through them if necessary, but they typically stop any unwanted combustion.

Warren and I start to spar and the gloves work wonders. I throw a punch and feel the flames lick against the inside of the gloves. As we fight, no flames appear until my hair starts sparking at the end. I lost in the end but only because I'm a few inches shorter than Warren. We sit down in the dirt on the edge of the open fighting space. I strip off the gloves and see the seal is a bit melted but mostly intact. I set the gloves down and say, "Thanks Warren, this will help me not incinerate pencils." Which has been a problem since my powers really kicked in. I have a habit of accidentally having my hands burst into flames when my heart rate suddenly changes. It's basically the same but a magnitude or so worse than Warren's problem with when he gets angry.

We walk to the side of the open space to a door that leads to our gym. This isn't a room with a bunch of equipment neatly lined up in rows. It contains a hundred foot high ceiling with many pipes spanning the room, just the right size to grip and pull up. Mats line the floors and ropes dangle from the pipes.

"Race you," I say. I switch out to my fingerless gloves and jump up onto a pipe seven feet up. I pull myself up and leap to reach the next pole swinging on it and landing on an elevated platform high in the air. I grab the rope attached and climb up to the next pipe. I gather momentum and swing to the next pipe. I barely make it with one hand. I leap onto the net right as Warren does. I allow the fire to pass through the gloves and catch Warren off guard and throw him into the net. The sudden impact and flexibility of the net causes a wave to come towards me. I jump up and flip to avoid him rushing towards me. I land behind him and throw a flame to his side. Realizing I forgot to retract the pipes for when one of us falls I jump over to the wall and push the button. Meanwhile, Warren rushes me and I use the elasticity of the net to jump out of the way. He throws a vortex of flame at me which barely catches my shoes. Compared to the field in the other room I have the advantage up here because, while I may be tall for my age, I am more flexible than Warren. I run towards him and he launches up letting the net slope down for me to prepare to jump. I send fire toward him on the other end of the net and while he's distracted I jump, dislodging him as I fly towards him, knocking him off the net to fall a few feet onto the mat below. I kneel down on the net and look at him as he hits the ground with a small grunt. He does land on his feet, which is rather impressive.

"Your flip was off, try to keep it more straight and tight," he says angrily. His hands are smoking unintentionally. I leap down and somersault into a landing.

"You're just mad that I won," I reply. Even though the floor is padded it still hurts like heck to fall from the net, which I unfortunately have a lot of experience in. However, since being trained half to death at school last year, I have beaten Warren almost every time on the net and half the time on the floor. I grab a couple sandwiches from my backpack and hand one to him.

"Thanks."

"When is Katelyn coming over again?"

"Six. She wanted to try battling you on the net before dinner. Then afterwards, something about going shopping so you don't look like you just came from a boarding school and have no regular clothes."

"Hey, these are fine," I say glancing down at my jeans and t-shirt, "I don't know what her problem is. I don't think anyone is going to give a crap about what I wear after Gauntlet tryouts tomorrow." I glance at the digital clock in the wall. 3:00. I open the door to the next room and input a passcode by the door. The ground splits in half and reveals a 30 foot deep pool.

I pull off my t-shirt to reveal the top of an Olympic style suit that covers from the shoulders to the knees. I remove my jeans and grab my goggles and cap from my backpack. I dive head first, dolphin kick and emerge with butterfly. I swim for another hour or so, practicing pace and sprints. I pull myself out and sit on the edge. I stand and walk towards my storage locker. I hold my hand to the bio-scan and the door opens. I step inside the small room and put on a fresh change of clothes. I towel off my hair and decide to leave the black and red mess unruly and down to the middle of my back. I walk out and shut the locker, hearing thunks in the pipe room. Warren is leaping up the extended structure, about fifty feet up in the air. Despite his size, he's still graceful. I can tell he's a bit pissed off that I beat him- again.

I turn my head to the entrance as I hear someone climbing down the ladder. It's Katelyn. She has exercise shorts and t-shirt on. Warren sees her, leaps down, and runs over, hugging her after she lands. I chuckle a little when this happens. It's weird seeing a 6'4" guy hugging a 5'2" twig. I tap on the keypad by the door that lowers the ceiling and extends the net. "Ready?" I ask when their embrace ends and they walk over.

"Sure, she replies. She knows that this is my home turf, hence why we're going to the mall later. That's her's.

"Ready, Set… GO!" I shout. I follow the quicker route I took last time. It's a higher jump initially, but considering Katelyn is 5'2", she needs the one closer to the ground. I land on the platform and climb the rope. She is still a couple pipes below me. I fall onto the net as she climbs the rope. I crouch, looking like I'm catching my breath, but really preparing to launch her off the net. She lands hard on the net. She's never done this before, but isn't too bad at it for a beginner. Unfortunately, she can't predict my upcoming steps like Warren can. I jump up, causing a ripple in the net She is launched in the air and falls to the net near the edge. Thankfully all the pipes are retracted as I grab onto her, even as she starts forming ice, and push her off the net. Warren catches her and breaks her fall. I leap down and make sure she's okay. I tried not to make her to angry, because then she'll make shopping a living hell. She gets up, her blond hair a bit disheveled and her face not too annoyed.

"Good game," she says, "But now its time for me to have fun. I'll meet you at the car in five minutes."

* * *

At about 8, we return from our shopping expedition, Katelyn with a new dress and shoes and me with a dress that Katelyn picked out for me. I despise dresses. I refuse to wear them. This one looks nice, it's orange complimenting my jet-black and red streaked hair, but it will stay in the back of my closet, gathering dust. When she found it she said, "Oh! This would be the perfect dress for homecoming!" Like I'll be going to homecoming. Not only is it such a stupid institution, but no one will ever want to get near a girl who can burn his face off. Along these lines, Warren told me the story of last year's homecoming, with people being turned into babies or some such. It's actually where he met Katelyn and they've been together ever since.

We sit in the livingroom of Warren's house, Warren and I talking through our strategy for Save the Citizen tomorrow and Katelyn leaning against Warren. Unfortunately, Warren and I can't go through the Gauntlet as a team because we have similar powers. It's somehow against the rules or something. Warren and I finish shortly and I leave to go to my house.

As I enter my bedroom, my dad says, "How are you going to conceal your markings?" As part of the Battle family, the first time I powered up, black markings appeared on my forearms showing what is known now as the Battle family crest. Warren hides his with is leather jacket and long gloves. Typically I haven't hid mine because at my previous school, they were a sign that I wasn't to be messed with. However, what with the superhero offspring attending Sky High, it wasn't good to remind people that you were related to the infamous Battle clan, the most powerful supervillain family in history.

"I'll just wear my long fingerless gloves, similar to Warren," I reply.

"Okay, I'll take you and Warren early for tryouts tomorrow."

* * *

Author's Note: Thank you for reading! If you have suggestions or comments, please leave a review! Those help me want to finish the story more quickly.


	2. An Accomplice

_Edit: Song lyrics removed becuase I did not give them proper credit and I'm not allowed to have them in stories._

* * *

Five-thirty is way too early to be up in the morning. I stumble out of bed and ready myself for the day ahead, making sure I remembered everything. I slip my sweatshirt over the protective but surprisingly comfortable Gauntlet uniform from my previous school. Despite the distaste I have for that place, being one of the better students there had its perks. I then slip my fingerless gloves on, still leaving most of my forearm showing. I think I'll show off the markings, at least for tryouts, because a little fear wouldn't do me any harm. I shove a t-shirt and jeans in my bag, which is already crammed full with binders, pencils, and pens. I sling my backpack over my shoulder and walk out the door to the curb where my dad is waiting with the car. Warren strolls out of his house a minute later.

I munch on a protein bar, trying to calm my nerves, as we drive through Maxville to reach the launch point for our flying car. I might not be anxious for school but I absolutely hate heights. We launch and a few minutes later, end up in Sky High's parking lot. The school appears abandoned, with the exception of the lit gym, and only a dozen or so cars sparsely parked.

Warren and I, after climbing the steps, enter the gym, where Warren enters the passcode to a door that leads to a staircase into the depths of the school. We descend a few flights and then enter the door labelled Gauntlet Sim Room. It is a windowless room, harshly illuminated with industrial lights, similar to the training room. The center of the floor is covered in a wrestling mat, with about two feet of bare cement flooring as a perimeter. Warren drops his backpack next to mine on the floor and takes off his leather jacket, showing his typical training clothes. I remove my sweatshirt, opting to leave my jeans on as long as necessary. A couple other people enter the room, seeing Warren and moving to the other side of the prep area.

This complex of rooms is created so that we do not know what the Gauntlet will appear like each time. It has low ceilings, one door to a room called the transition, and the door Warren and I entered. Some of the more athletic Seniors begin doing pushups and a warm up. I literally warmup. My stress levels are rapidly increasing and as I take off my climbing gloves to stretch out my hands, a flame involuntarily starts increasing on my hands. I quickly clench my fists, close my eyes, and take a deep breath. More kids enter the room, mostly Seniors by the way they carry themselves. They see my markings and my clenched fist, in addition to Warren, who already has a less than wonderful reputation, and raise an eyebrow. I replace my climbing gloves as soon as Coach Boomer enters the room. I pop in my machining ear plugs. I've heard about Boomer and his powers.

"Okay, I know we all want to get this year started and can't wait for school so we're going to do this quickly. Each of you will enter the door behind me and face a strength and skill test, the Gauntlet itself. Afterwards, you will go through a power stress test. The fastest times on the strength test and the strongest powers on the stress test will make the team. I'd wish you good luck, but only skill will cut it here. We'll start with Juniors first, Michael Alberson, you're up. Afterwards, it will be Lauren Coleman and Alexandra Battle, then Hothead, and Anderson Pike. Most of the rest of you have done this before and I'll inform you all when its time to start."

A kid, who I gather is Michael, follows Boomer into the transition room. About three minutes of quiet conversation pass until Lauren is called. The same amount of time passes when I am called into the room. I nod to Warren, take off my gloves and jeans, showing a black, athletic t-shirt and volleyball shorts. Both don the logo of my previous school, a flying dragon breathing fire. I follow Boomer into the glass walled room, who informs me that I have thirty seconds to analyze the environment. I will then need to climb the course to the trapdoor on the ceiling.

I sweep over the area. It looks like an inner-city playground, complete with the walls of apartment buildings. There are tire stacks, ropes, boxes of unknown stability, and, my favorite, pipes. "Ten seconds," I hear. I have my hand on the doorknob. "Ready, Set, Go!" I hear and in a wave I open the door and run towards the pipe I see, attached to a water works system. I run towards it and swing off of it to reach the top of a stack of tires. I jump off of that and grip onto a ledge on the wall. I skirt along that until I reach another stack of tires. I haul myself up to that and see the trapdoor. A pipe leads to a pipe structure hanging off the ceiling by the trapdoor. The air suddenly grows humid and droplets fall from the ceiling. I will the fire in my hands not to burst out as my body automatically responds to the antagonistic threat of water.

I jump up to the pipe, catching it with both hands but one hand slips as the pipe comes loose, the wetness paired with the instability being dangerous. I reach toward the pipe structure with my free hand and monkey bar over. I reach a leg over the pipe hanging from the ceiling, along with a hand as I melt the lock on the trap door. It falls open and a rope ladder dangles. I reach towards the ladder, swinging on it as I do so and scramble up the hatch.

I enter a room and feel myself become…. cold? Being a pyrokinetic, I haven't previously experienced this sensation, but this is what I imagine it feels like. I flick open my hand to start my flame. It doesn't appear. I feel my heart rate increase, so I start trying to calm down. Realizing that my body temperature is dropping dangerously low, I close my eyes and focus on my hands. I push all of my energy to my hands and I feel smoke start rising and a flame kindle. My temperature rises and the bright lights flicker. I keep pushing the remainders of my energy through as the lights sputter off as if a power outage was caused. I walk towards the door I noticed on the other side of the room. I push the handle, which is locked. I once again melt the lock and the door slides open showing a Coach Boomer who is impressed but doing his best not to show it. He leads me into the room where David and Lauren are waiting. A few minutes later, Warren enters, looking shaken. He sits next to me and flames up his hand, making sure it still works.

He quickly reverts his face to his typical scowl, and gives me a questioning look. I shrug my shoulders. Eventually we are joined by the ten or so other students that have come, most of them a bit shaken, but having known what was going to happen, relieved it was over. The only other person I find completely calm after leaving the "power-proof" room was the final Junior, Anderson. A six foot dark haired guy, he's not the most powerful looking one in the room, but obviously is more than he appears. I'll have to see if he's doing Save the Citizen, if he overcame the power proof room the way I think he did, he might be a beneficial partner.

Boomer comes out with the last person and says, "Those who make the team will be announced tomorrow along with the Save the Citizen duos." We return back to the original starting room and retrieve our things. The warning bell rings as I'm glancing at the schedule on my phone. Honors Spanish, perfect. Because I'm a Junior on the Hero track, this class, English, and Mad Science pass in a blur of syllabi and rubrics.

Finally, lunch arrives with a packed cafeteria. I set my stuff next to Warren, who is at a table with Will Stronghold and his gang, in addition to that kid Anderson. While Will and the gang, including Warren are all sharing some inside joke, Anderson is silently eating his food. I decide to start a conversation. "Hey, when you exited the room, unlike everyone else, you didn't look like the life had been sucked out of you. What happened?"

"I had a couple of tricks up my sleeve."

"My guess is, you're strong enough to overpower the room."

"That may be true, but my guess is that you're the same way if not stronger. I saw the insignia on your uniform. Entrance to Chelendai is not exactly a walk in the park."

"You never answered my original question," I say, skirting the comment, "How exactly did you overpower the room?"

"If you push hard enough, it'll collapse. Telekinesis made it even easier. Knowing your abilities, you're a pyro, and I assume from your markings, you did it the same way."

"You are correct. Any plans for Save the Citizen?

"Other than trying out, none. I do think we would work together well, and the powers balance out favorably."

I consider this offer. On one hand, I don't know him well and how good he could be. On the other, he was powerful enough to be the only other one to make it through the second stage of the Gauntlet by overpowering the system. I decide to accept the offer, "I'm game. You just telekinetic or also telepathic?"

"Well, you're more than a pyro, probably, based on your previous school and insignia, unusually good at hand-to-hand combat and gymnastics."

I take that answer as a yes. i'm surprised at how much he knows about another school's rank system. Of course, he's gone here last year, and Chelendai and Sky High are fierce competitors. As we continue lunch I can tell that he's obviously used to his power unlike a lot of the kids here. He subtly uses his telekinesis to grab his fork that slid across the table, just out of reach. The rest of lunch passes somewhat slowly. Next period is the one that Gauntlet and Save the Citizen teams use for prep if there isn't a school-wide Save the Citizen competition.

When the period begins, I go to a far corner of the gym and practice manipulating my fire with a trick I just got under my belt. I throw an orb of it up in the air and I control the oxygen around it to cause it to become a vortex that I rise up in the air. I release the oxygen inside it, dispersing the flames. Anderson walks over and attempts to control the vortex I yet again create. I fight him and his eyebrows furrow in concentration. Instead of focusing on the vortex, he lowers his eyes and focuses on me. I easily regain control of the vortex as I immediately feel a throbbing in the front of my forehead as if someone is trying to mentally take me over. I want to focus completely on fighting the headache, but I still try to control the vortex. I push back against the pain. Involuntarily, in fighting the force invading my head, I release the vortex towards Anderson. The headache suddenly leaves me and I feel drained, but in control. I open my eyes and see a surprised Anderson, crouching from what I assume was evading my vortex.

"Oh, crap, I'm sorry." I say slightly starting to understand what I did.

"You're fine," he answered, shaken, "I've never seen anyone with such discipline over their abilities, even when under mental fire, you have serious experience. I hope you're ready for Save the Citizen," he says.

I nod, turn around, and walk into the girl's locker room and scan my hand to open the armor rack and pick out my size. I fit it over my Gauntlet uniform and secure the battered thing around my waist. When I make the team, I'll receive my own armor set, specifically fitted, but for now, I have to deal with the one that's been through a thousand people. Meanwhile, everyone else is completing the same processes to equip themselves. I recognize many of them as Seniors trying for Gauntlet. I stand seperate, I tower over most of them and my now exposed arms and my most recent 'performance' don't do much to endear myself to them. I've drawn myself a target on my back, one I know many would like to nail.

In our first match, Anderson and I easily dominate two Seniors, a hydrokinetic and a geokinetic. We save the citizen in twenty seconds flat as I stop the opponents, cut the rope, and Anderson moves the citizen and pushes our opponents against the wall. As villains, our next match takes longer but is just as successful. In our final game, the unofficial championship, we play as villains. We struggle to track down our opponents, the defending school champions, but manage to barely prevent them from saving the wooden mannequin citizen. The issue in that match was not lack of strength but unease in communication between Anderson and I. If we continue working together, that may be an issue. Those few students and teachers observing the match look slightly surprised at the result, but not stunned, due to our numerous errors. Anderson congratulates me on our win and otherwise wordlessly returns to his locker room. Because of our unexpected victory, the rest of the day passes with many curious looks from many of the Seniors.

* * *

After school, I return home and collapse into bed. This day has been mentally exhausting. People have been exhausting. My eyes start to close and I let sleep carry me away.

_"ALEXANDRA, STOP!" I hear a voice suspiciously like Anderson's shout. I am surrounded by a hurricane of flame. I see the outline of Anderson through the flying flames. He is lying on the floor writhing in pain. My vision darkens around the edge and I try to release the hurricane and save him. Why do I feel such attachment to someone I met yesterday... I walk through the rotating wall of fire with not much more than a tingling feeling. I grab hold of Anderson and struggle to pull him out of the vortex. His legs aren't burned, and as I help him, he hops to his feet, grabs me by the shoulders and throws me to the ground. The vortex dissipates and I feel dizzy._

_"You did this!" he says gesturing to the dark void around him._

_My vision clears and I see the skyline of Maxville on fire. I try to stand up but there is a force holding me to the ground. Anderson is standing in front of me palms facing me. I condense the vortex and use almost all of my strength to force it upon him. He pins me down and I feel an almost unbearable pain pass through my forehead. My vision fades to darkness as I hear the beep of my alarm._

* * *

Thanks for reading and to those who have favorited and followed the story! Sorry for the distance between updates. It shouldn't be quite as bad this next time. Please leave a review with comments, concerns, and suggestions for the next chapters.

Song Credit:

Chapter 1: BA55 by Switchfoot

Chapter 2: Afterlife by Switchfoot


	3. A Present Past

_Edit: Song lyrics removed because they are under copyright and I was stupid and did not credit them and tried to include them in this story._

The results of who is on the Gauntlet and Save the Citizen teams was posted on the doors to the gym. I glance over the lists searching for my name. I find it under the Golden, or Varsity team of the Gauntlet. On the same list is Anderson and Warren. I look over to the three pairings who qualified for Save the Citizen. The number one pair is the duo that Anderson and I defeated, and thankfully next is listed Anderson and my names.

Anderson walks up behind me and says, "Not bad. I'm not sure I'm gonna like having Boomer as a coach again."

"Again?," I reply.

"I made Golden for Gauntlet last year. I didn't have a good partner to try out for Save the Citizen with," he shrugs off. Practices for Save the Citizen and Gauntlet start directly after school.

As is custom on the second days of school, by the time I reach lunch, I am loaded down with textbooks and homework. This time, instead of jovially joining in with the Stronghold gang, Warren is keeping an eye on Anderson. Even though the kid joined their table last year and has become part of their group, he apparently isn't the most transparent person. He doesn't read very easily, similar to Warren. Similarly, judging by yesterday, it seems we'll be very complementary, if our strategy can become solid.

The next few days pass. Their practices are comprised of covering the required rules, uniform fitting, icebreakers and Save the Citizen partner. During this mundaneness, Anderson and I start to sarcastically joke about random things from English literature to obscure Indie video games. It's nice because I haven't had the option of a close friend since I would see Warren at family gatherings.

Anderson and I start to join into the lunch table conversations of the group and amazingly, Warren starts warming up, although not literally, to Anderson. Finally, a routine sets in and our Gauntlet matches are due to start in a week. In the next practice, Boomer hands out the schedules for the fall season. When I see the name of the first school at which we will playing, my stomach twists into knots and I take a quick breath. Carver Academy, a school where unorthodox is encouraged, and the weak are removed. Undefeated champion of Gauntlet and Save the Citizen 20 years running. I would know. I helped the last 3 times.

Warren acknowledges my reaction with a curious look and says, "Your paper is almost in cinders." I notice my hand have once again involuntarily burst into flames. I sigh and crunch the paper up into ashes and deposit it in a trash can. My anxiety grows as the next few days of practice are filled with what Boomer thinks are good counter techniques to Carver's award winning strategy. They will only do more to play into Carver's hand.

The practice of the day before is fun, because we do full 2 on 2 practice matches. In my match, Anderson and I play against Warren and the Student Council president Tracey, a shape-shifter on a plain, open, dirt floor. Warren and I, surrounded in flames, spar hand to hand. Anderson mentally blocks Tracey and sprints to take the flag. Warren sees him doing so and tries to break free of our fight. I cause smoke in front of him, obscuring his target. Anderson snatches the flag and easily makes it over the line to our side, causing us to have the victory.

The rest of the practice is spent doing one-on-one sparring and matches. When we go up against each other, Anderson doesn't even have a chance to mentally impair me before he's on the ground with me in victory. Trying again, he blocks my vision so I can only see very fuzzy shapes. I close my eyes and feel his heat signature move around me. I move slightly slower to feign being completely incapable, but manage to avoid damaging hits. Anderson surprisingly doesn't try to immediately take me out. I take advantage of his pause and, with a kick, he falls to the ground. I "pin" him, using my fire to hold him down. As the match ends, I see burn marks on his wrists and ankles where he tried to struggle against the fire. "Next time, I won't make the mistake of being careful." he says. I believe him. Unfortunately, the clock hits five and Boomer dismisses us before he has a chance to make good on his statement.

The next morning, as I open my closet, I once again am faced with the same Gauntlet uniform I will face later today. I take a deep breath, close my eyes, and straighten my neck and back to a confident posture. I'm slapped in the face with the memory of my first Gauntlet match. My arms ache as they remember the overexertion I caused them. I see the charred remains of the field and the scared faces of my recently defeated opponents. My partner, then a Senior, even takes a step back in caution. I relive what was not the first time I lost control, an occurrence brought on when I let myself be filled with pure fury. It makes Warren's worst tantrum look like a laughing fit. I then change perspective and see myself from an outside observer, doing exactly what I am now, rolling my shoulders back, blanking out my mind and resuming a calm scowl. I shove the memory down, grab my Switchfoot shirt, and close my closet door.

I let go of my hold on my fire and fury and it spills off of me, licking the floor and dissipating. I feel it cover myself from head to toe, relaxing my frustration and reassuring me that an accident like that will never happen again because I can control it. I stop the flames and the comforting sensation vanishes. I pick up my backpack and leave my room to confront a world that, if they knew what I really could do, would call for my destruction.

Its refreshing when, at lunch, everyone is laughing and joking about the day's classes. I join in, as best I'm able, knowing the verbal and physical onslaught I am going to receive from Carver this afternoon. Warren senses my unease and through a variety of minute facial expressions exchanged by the both of us understands to leave it alone.

As the end of school nears closer, the dread in me increases. With the exception of Warren, no one else in this school knows I attended Carver and helped them gain their reputation of being one of the most dominant and evil schools in the world. The chances of one of the Carver student using my weakness to their easy advantage by trying to piss me off to the point where I lose control is incredibly likely.

When I reach the gym after school ends, I see the group of a dozen or so Carver students huddled around the coach, a tall shape-shifter we all called Smith, despite him not actually belonging to that name. They are going through a discussion I knew all too well. He explains all of the weaknesses of the opponents and how to get around them. He then encourages the students to go to whatever lengths are necessary in order to win. I calmly walk past, on the other side of the gym and am nearly at the locker room when I am noticed.

"Well, if it isn't the Inferno herself. I gotta say, I was surprised when you didn't show up the first day of school. Of all of the places I expected you to go, Sky High was not one of them. I look forward to seeing how you haven't improved. It seems Scott and I face you in the A rank match. Can't wait to see you and whoever your unlucky partner is both pounded into the ground." Missy Harris' greeting is what I expected from her: unforgiving.

"We had to move, so naturally we'd choose a place with family," I retort. "Sky High made the most sense because of the neighborhood. And, if you'll excuse me, I need to get ready to completely roast you and Scott."

I emerge from the locker room a few minutes later to find a much more crowded gym with no Carver students in sight. A couple of my teammates are huddled around Coach Boomer, who, for once in his life, isn't taking advantage of his loud voice. "Battle, Pike," he addresses us, "I hope you're ready to face their toughest. We have never won an A match against Carver."

Anderson and I having been the only ones talked at share a concerned glance as Boomer passes out the breakdowns of our opponents. I read through mine, even though I already know what I'll find. We're facing a particularly new terrakinetic, Scott, and an experienced empath, Missy. Because I'm more comfortable with the terrain and obstacles on today's layout, the water environment, I'll target Scott, the terrakinetic because he'll focus his powers on the main person confronting him and if I lose control, which Missy will do her best to make me do, we're done.

The environment we're in is not very advantageous for Scott because he can only control the dry land, but not the many pools and canals in the field. Anderson can take care of Missy because he can easily get into her head as part of her powers. That way, she won't try to affect my emotions which would end up much more volatile. While he holds her off and immobilizes her, I'll rush Scott and steal their flag, hopefully being able to restrain Scott in the mean time.

As the A match, we're essentially the main event. We wait till the end, meanwhile watching how everyone handles the water filled arena. It's set up in a large square with a central circular pool, 25 yards (~23 meters) in diameter and 8 feet deep with many smaller, but just as deep waterways spiking out to the diagonals and the midpoints. Its a very humid environment, which is a problem for the strength of my fire. As a result, I plan on working with physical combat. Finally our match arrives with mostly losses for Sky High in the books. Anderson and I enter the arena and start in our corner of the field. Missy and Scott are setup in the corner opposite us. The flags are about 10 feet away from the back corners.

Before the match starts, I scope out where Missy and Scott are. Scott is staying by the flag and Missy is set to rush us. I step back and wait for the starting bell as Anderson focuses towards Missy. The starting signal is given and I see Missy starting to cringe and clench her fists under a mental attack from Anderson. I take this as a cue to dive in and start swimming as I feel my legs start being immersed in the land. Scott starts to trap Anderson as he loses me. I sprint faster and climb out to the edge of the water where Scott is standing. I land a kick in his stomach before he has a chance to focus on me, sending him to the ground. He loses his hold on Anderson and the ground recedes from him. I lunge for the flag directly behind him and turn to run when he stands up again, starting to pull the ground up around me.

I hold the flag in my left hand and send a punch to his head knocking him out, but thankfully not really harming him. I dive into the pool, Anderson still mentally battling with Missy. I get out and sprint back to the line that marks out our side, flag clenched in my grasp and my shins killing me from the strain of swimming and fighting against Scott. I hear the bell signal my victory and Missy and Scott both glare at me. Missy walks by and brushes my shoulder saying, "I saw many things in Pike's head. He likes you, you know, he won't as soon as he figures out what you're really capable of and what you have done in the past. As soon as him and the rest of Sky High find out, you'll be in more government hands than the world's worst murderer. Don't expect to easily float through high school hiding your powers."


	4. A Return to Normal Life

_A black car sits at the end of the street that gives a home to Alexandra and Warren. The just rising sun shines on a very professional-looking woman inside the car. She presses the button on her lapel pin. "It seems the suppression is wearing off as planned. However, we will have a Legacy on our hands."_

"_And Pike?" a voice whispers into her ear._

"_Confirmed Legacy. No wonder they're already working together, power calls to power."_

"_Or destroys it… Keep Powers aware of the basics of the situation, but don't let her know that Battle or Pike is a Legacy."_

"_Confirmed. And for power monitoring?"  
_"_Battle won't trust anything given to her to wear or that she even suspects. Carver made sure of that. Currently we'll remain in the shadows until the transition occurs. Besides, system registration occurs next week. We'll know our answer for sure and be able to implement a data collector through the blood sample. For now, continue recording observations as she progresses through the higher caliber of training."_

"_Sir?"_

"_Go on."_

"_From my observations of Battle, she's very cautious about anyone coming into contact with her. Based on our observations, my prediction is that she will dodge the system registration."_

"_That is a factor we have already considered. However, we're altering the process such that we'll obtain a sample regardless. Regardless, continue characterizing her powers and find her weaknesses," the voice decisively concludes. _

"_Understood. Expect a report tomorrow after their exhibition."_

_The car shudders on and silently slinks away towards the propulsion bridge to the school._

* * *

After yesterday's match, Anderson and I become recognized in the halls and congratulated on our victory, despite the fact that Sky High ultimately lost the match. Even walking into History of Supers, we're accosted by our teacher, Ms. Sander, who gives us applause as we're walking in. Anderson smiles and nods, saying "Thank You," and sits down. I just walk past and nod, tired of not being able to blend into the general student population. I grudgingly slog through the rest of the day, happy that we won, but not enjoying the added attention that had suddenly come with it.

When I set my tray down at the lunch table, Layla leans across and offers, "Magenta and I were wondering if you'd like to come over and do some shopping this weekend for homecoming."

"To clarify, I'm being dragged along against my will," Magenta adds.

"Sure, if only to keep busy" I reply, "No one has asked me to Homecoming, and after gym today, no one is gonna want to."

Today is an all-school Save the Citizen showcase of the Gauntlet teams. Most of the school knows I helped win the Gauntlet match, but the news has yet to spread about me being a more powerful pyro than Barron Battle himself.

We were already assigned the alumni pairings. Since Anderson and I won, we're going up against last year's Gauntlet school champions, two graduated supers, a shape-shifter and a kid with super strength, like Will.

"Sure, nobody will ask you, nobody at all." Magenta gives a less than subtle nod towards Anderson who's listening to Will animatedly describing the latest heroic act he helped his parents with.

"I understand what you're suggesting, and that's not gonna happen. He would have asked me already. He's not a last minute kind of person," I definitively conclude.

Layla and Magenta give me skeptical looks and then move on. "You're still welcome to come shopping with us," Layla adds.

"Fine. But don't expect me to buy a dress." I stand up and set my glove-clad hands on the table. "And you're wrong about him."

"Wrong about who?" Anderson asks as we return our trays to the kitchen.

"Wrong about Warren being a gamer," I calmly deflect. "He reads way too much."

"I'll let my Steam account beg to differ," Anderson chuckles.

We walk together out of the loud cafeteria, making our way to the gym.

* * *

After suiting up, Anderson and I discuss strategy. We haven't ever practiced a Save the Citizen Match, but since working together daily, we're able to easily predict and complement each other's actions.

That being said, we still have the primary strategy of me creating a wall of fire around Anderson while he pins the shapeshifter using telekinesis. I'll pin the super-strength person with fire and either let time run out if we're villains or have Anderson elevate the citizen while I burn the rope.

I take a deep breath and we walk out onto the field as our names are announced by Boomer. "Ladies and Gentlemen, for your annual alumni-student Save the Citizen game, we present your alumni, Nissa "Morph" Henderson and Coby "Rocky" Magnus!" Clapping and cheering spread throughout the crowd as Boomer pauses for the applause. "We present their challengers, our current Gauntlet champions Anderson Pike and Alexandra Battle!" Anderson and I walk out side by side waving to the crowd. The alumni present are clapping, surprised to hear the name "Battle," but, thankfully, respectful. The students roar in support.

"The alumni have elected to be villains." Anderson and I look at each other and nod, communicating the choice of plan. The time begins…..NOW!"

Anderson and I execute our plan. I open my arms and let the fire slide up to my shoulders. I push it out, causing a barrier between us and the alumni. Henderson stops her surge towards us and I see an eagle soar over the barrier. I see her jolt to a stop as Anderson takes control. He slams the eagle to the ground, leaving it transformed back into Henderson. She is obviously unconscious and too weak to remain transformed. I create a circle of fire around her so she's not rescued.

Meanwhile, Magnus has been trapped behind the line of flames. I walk through the line of flames and dodge a punch from him. I push a stream of fire out of my hands and become a fire hurricane. I wait for Anderson to levitate the citizen. As it rises, Magnus is helpless to stop me. I feel exhaustion creep over me as I spread a stream of fire towards the rope above citizen. Maintaining an inferno isn't the easiest thing. The citizen is then floated over onto the ground.

As it lands, I release the fire spiraling around me and collapse onto the ground. I've never sustained that amount of flame for such a long time. I'm completely drained from the effort. Boomer declares us the winner as janitors use hoses to disperse the flames. I stand up shakily and see Anderson weakened also from the effort of manipulating multiple people. He wears a concerned look, and I stumble over to him. "We did it." I say, as applause is still lingering around us.

Coach Boomer strolls onto the field and raises our arms in the air, announcing our victory. I stress a smile and am relieved when we get to walk back into the locker rooms.

As I am sliding my gloves on, I notice that my black markings have crept further up my arm and now wind around the entirety of my forearms. I should probably get new gloves. I then realize that the match was the first time since Carver that I have pushed myself that far. Understandably, it's a relief to walk in the door at the end of the school day and be in a peaceful house.

* * *

I walk into school and see Anderson at my locker, which isn't too unusual. It's where we meet most mornings before we go to Superhero History. However, this time, he's looking slightly more nervous as I walk down the hallway towards him. I open my locker and we talk about how crazy Layla is being about getting ready for Homecoming. After talking about this, there's a bit of awkward silence. "X, I was wondering if you would go to Homecoming with me."

"Yeah, that would be fun," I reply. Layla is going to give me so much crap about this.

* * *

Author's Note: Thank you for reading this! It's been quite a while since I posted a chapter, but hopefully more should be on their way! If you want one sooner, let me know by reviewing! Thank you to those who have favorited and followed thus far.


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